


She Wasn't Supposed to Be

by Silver_belle



Series: Eira Lavellan [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancing, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:51:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_belle/pseuds/Silver_belle
Summary: She wasn't supposed to be beautiful or loving or captivating...She wasn't supposed to exist at all. And yet she did. Solas broods about the Inquisitor as he watches her dance.





	

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. _Nothing_ was supposed to happen like this. Corypheus was meant to die in the explosion that unlocked the Orb. Solas would have reclaimed what was rightfully his and put the world back as it belonged. The Inquisition would never have formed. He would never have joined, and there never would have been…

Her. 

Eira Lavellan was never supposed to have existed. The fact remained that she did. And now, the idea that she could have perished in the explosion turned his stomach. The idea that she would no longer remain in the world of the living caused a lump to form in the back of his throat. The idea that she would never have stood before him now, dancing in the light of the fire and the moon and the stars, caused a tangible pain in his heart. 

He remembered the moment he received word that a woman had survived the blast. Instantly, he’d been curious. This was impossible. _How_ she’d survived was even more impossible. She’d walked out of the Fade.

Walked—as in physically stepped out.

He’d thought this woman must be mighty, indeed. She must have been powerful beyond imagination to overcome the demons and the Fade itself—a Qunari, perhaps. 

Imagine the surprise Solas felt when he first laid eyes on the wispy, elven woman that was Eira Lavellan. She was tiny and thin. Her hair was the color of warm milk with a touch of honey, and her skin reminded him of the first full moon of spring—pale and flawless. The only imperfection in her appearance was the light green ink around her eyes, marking her as a slave to June. Most would consider even that to be lovely, but most did not understand its meaning.

Solas remained by the woman’s side, studying the poisonous-looking mark on her hand—the mark he’d effectively cursed her with. Each time the rift pulsed, she would cry out in pitiful, delirious pain. At the time, Solas hadn’t thought much of it. She was a Dalish elf. Like the rest of her kind, she was likely a prideful, fumbling fool, clinging to the world as it was instead of imagining what could have been. Why should he care if she was in pain? His ultimate mission would only cause her more.

How _wrong_ he had been.

She was supposed to be prideful. She was supposed to be apathetic and complacent about the world. She was supposed to be crass and rough and wrong. It was supposed to be easy to hate what she was. She was supposed to be less than a person—a pitiable creature that needed eradicated so the world could return to its former glory.

But then she woke up.

Solas had been fighting demons when Cassandra appeared with her. He’d turned, and her eyes had nearly struck him down. They were the color of the rifts, yet instead of the poisonous, deadly feeling the rifts exuded, Solas felt purity as he gazed into them. 

Without hesitation, he’d taken her hand, and in one gesture, she changed everything. She could undo his mistake. She could save everyone.

Solas watched her spin with Dorian to a lively tune, and he couldn’t quite grasp the feeling that welled up inside him. Dorian, a Tevinter, had become the Inquisitor’s best friend despite any council she was given. She had defended him from every single one of her advisors because she saw him as a man instead of his homeland or his sexual preferences. To her, he was Dorian, and that’s all that mattered. He was just one more testament to her purity. 

Eira Lavellan made everything so easy. She befriended those who should have been enemies. She accepted spirits as people and hungered to know more about them. No one was too far gone for her gentle heart, and the hearts of others were changed by simply knowing her.

She also made everything infinitely more difficult. 

She wasn’t supposed to be so pure. She wasn’t supposed to be gentle. She wasn’t supposed to look at the world with the wide-eyed wonder of a child. She wasn’t supposed to hang on every word Solas said as though it was the most fascinating tale she’d ever heard. She wasn’t supposed to make him second-guess.

Despite everything she was or wasn’t _supposed_ to be, this woman continually defied Solas’s every expectation. He found himself spending more and more time in the Fade because he feared the look of disappointment he’d seen when he finally exhausted his store of memories—a supply he’d previously thought endless. He found himself craving the touch of her hand, the sound of her voice, and the sweet scent of her embrace. He found it harder to dream of the past because his every thought—waking and sleeping—was of her. He desired nothing more than to see her happy and fulfilled in her life.

Solas was confused and frightened. He was frustrated, and he was losing sight of his goal. Could this world really be so terrible if she was in it?

She wasn’t supposed to be this wonderful—this amazing. She wasn’t supposed to be…

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Varric stepped up beside the brooding elf, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Who would have thought our fearless Inquisitor would be so…”

“Perfect,” Solas muttered as he stepped forward.

The song had ended, and the Inquisitor was standing, breathless and laughing, before Dorian. A softer song began to play as Solas approached. Eira looked surprised when he bowed to her and held out his hand. Her pale cheeks flushed brilliant red as she slid her hand into his.

With a small smile, Solas stood and wrapped her in his arms. The feeling of her slight body pressed against his own drove pleasurable shivers up his spine as they began dancing. Electric green eyes gazed up at him from behind long eyelashes, sending his ancient heart racing. A dazzling smile spread across her full lips, and Solas suddenly found breathing a chore.

As the song drew to a close, Solas reluctantly loosened his hold on the Inquisitor. Before he could release her completely, she surprised him by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him downward. She stretched up onto her toes and placed her lips next to his ear. Her breath on his skin, the scent of her hair, and the sensual sound of her voice felt as though they was created purely for his pleasure, and they left him feeling weak with passionate desire.

“I love you, Solas,” she whispered.

She wasn’t supposed to be incredible. She wasn’t supposed to be lovely. And she certainly wasn’t supposed to be in love with him.

The simple truth remained that she was all of those things and so much more. Solas felt as though his heart was simultaneously breaking and being healed by her presence as he pulled back enough to gaze into those breathtaking eyes. Despite everything in his mind screaming for him to push her away—to guard her heart and his own—that look in her eyes demanded his complete honesty.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan,” he answered softly.


End file.
